Perfection

A state of perfection

I have killed myself before, reaching for a state of perfection
Stayed up all night to make sure that all articles of clothing have been washed and put away, all floors swept and moped, all carpets vacuumed and spot checked

I have washed walls and cried because I couldn't stop
Stayed home from parties
because my home was not clean
and I myself was not fit
curves not tucked into place

I didn't feel acceptable then

my children
went without me

to church
to family parties

they went off to play with their cousins at skating rinks and trampoline parks

while I lay sleeping

exhausted

imperfect

It's ridiculous

to think that I am not good enough

because everything is not in it's place

I live in gratitude that my children work hard everyday trying to do well in school, studying and striving. Yes they could help out more, I could demand more...

I think though that there will be time enough for me to sit all alone in a spotless house.

Aching to see their art projects, their bouquets of dandelions filling up my expensive tea cups, my daughters makeup, my sons basketballs and Pokemon cards. Someday I won't have to deal with it all.

Will I be perfect then?

I think not

Perfection lies in all the striving, all the creativity and life of the curious mind. Perfection is my daughters makeshift box house taking up space in the living room, someday I will get rid of it... someday, but not today.